


I Will Have This

by orphan_account



Series: T'hy'La [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Amanda POV, Baby Jim, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Kid Spock, M/M, Possessive Spock, Pre-Series, T'hy'la bond, outsider pov, time stamps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-07 21:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just as she finished adding a small box of sweets to her items, she felt a tug on the sleeve of her robe.  Turning, she had a smile prepared, and a praise on the tip of her tongue for whatever item her son had chosen.  That turned into a sharp gasp when she realized that carefully ensconced in her son’s arms was not any item for sale in the shop, but a very human baby.“Mother, I will have this.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just kind of got in the mood for some Toddler Spock deciding that Baby Jim was his. So I wrote this little drabble.
> 
> Update 6/28/18: warpfactornonsense on Tumblr made some art for this and I could not be more excited. Check it out [here](https://warpfactornonsense.tumblr.com/post/175346507302/ashayamspirks-fic-i-will-have-this-is-just-the)

“Just one thing, Spock. Remember?” Amanda’s voice was firm, but in that quiet, soothing way a mother’s always was.

Spock, four Terran years of age, human eyes, but Vulcan everything else, nodded with a serious dip in his eyebrows. “Yes, mother.” 

Any other four year old child would likely not be allowed to wander such a shop on their own, but Amanda knew that her son would go no further than instructed, and would take his time inspecting each and every item before he found the appropriate Earth Memento to bring back to Vulcan with him.

She wandered amongst the aisles of teas and coffees, adding a few to her little basket to bring back with her so she could indulge every once in a while. She knew her husband was not far off, speaking quietly with a few members of the Federation on their final bit of business before their shuttle took them to the ship that would take them home. It was a strange sensation, to feel alien on her own planet, but she’d been married to Sarek for a long time now. While she appreciated the reprieve from all things opposite to her nature, she found herself missing the red sands and hot suns of Shi’Kahr.

Just as she finished adding a small box of sweets to her items, she felt a tug on the sleeve of her robe. Turning, she had a smile prepared, and a praise on the tip of her tongue for whatever item her son had chosen. That turned into a sharp gasp when she realized that carefully ensconced in her son’s arms was not any item for sale in the shop, but a very human baby.

“Mother, I will have this.”

Amanda’s eyes sat wide, her mouth dropped open in shock, and it took her several moments to regain her composure. “Spock! Where did you…where did that baby come from?”

Spock turned his head, jostling the baby as he attempted to point behind himself. The baby seemed to think it was all in good fun, giggling and turning his head in an attempt to gnaw on Spock’s high collar. “He was there. I will have him. He can sleep on I-Chaya’s mat.”

Amanda reached for the baby in an attempt to regain control over the situation, but Spock sensed her, and stepped just out of her grasp. “Spock,” she chided, “you cannot take someone’s baby.”

Spock’s jaw set, resolute and determined, and Amanda fought the urge to reach up and pinch the bridge of her nose. Spock was as smart, if not smarter than his Vulcan peers. He was loquacious, more so than most Vulcan children, and he was generally in control of his emotions. However, there were moments like these which reminded her that he was also half hers. Half-human, and just as stubborn as she’d ever been.

“He is in the shop, I wish to take him. I will have this, mother,” he reiterated.

Before Amanda could say anything else, there was a sharp cry of, “James!” A blonde woman looking harried and frazzled, rushed up and came to a skidding halt. The terror on her face melted into something more like confusion, and her eyes darted up to Amanda’s.

“I’m so sorry,” Amanda breathed out. “He’s…I told him one thing in the shop, and he took it a bit…literal.”

The woman’s entire face softened, and she knelt down. Amanda bristled for a second, a warning not to touch Spock on the tip of her tongue, but it was unnecessary. The woman held up a perfect ta’al to her son. “My name is Winona Kirk. And that baby you’re holding, his name is James, but we call him Jim.”

“I am Spock,” the boy said, hitching Jim up higher against his chest in a way a child might hold a teddy bear. Amanda would have worried, but the small infant seemed to be as content as ever, a fist curled into his mouth which he gummed happily, the other hand gripping Spock’s sleeve. “I will have this to take home to Vulcan.”

“Well you know,” Winona said, looking back at Amanda with a small smile, “I think that he would enjoy Vulcan, but maybe not until he’s older. You see, human babies cry a lot. And very loudly. And they want a lot of hugs and kisses.”

Spock’s tiny nose wrinkled as he weighed those options. Then, after a pause, he said, “That is acceptable.”

Winona laughed quietly as Amanda palmed her forehead. “Don’t you think it might be better if he stayed here a little bit longer with me? I have a feeling Jim’s going to want to travel the stars when he gets bigger, but he has a lot to learn first. I don’t think you would like it if Jim decided he’d want to keep you here on his homeworld before you were ready.”

Spock sighed, looking down at the baby as he clutched him a little it tighter. “I…” Amanda held her breath. “That is logical.” Spock held the baby out to Winona who carefully took him back, and Amanda noted the way her son’s grip lingered on the baby.

Something warm and hopeful twisted in her gut. She knew that Vulcans were logical beings, and that Kholinar was a thing, and that possibly Spock might choose to purge emotions. But she also knew that Vulcans were capable of great, fathomless love, and possessive natures which was what she had fallen in love with, when she’d met her husband. She worried all the time, that Spock might not find his place. She already heard whispers of the people regarding the nature of her son—the first, the _only_ half-Vulcan. But in this moment, she had hope.

“My wife?”

Amanda looked over to see a flicker of concern over Sarek’s face before it was carefully schooled away. He looked down at his son, then at Winona who was standing up with the baby on her shoulder. She offered the ta’al to Sarek, who promptly returned it.

“Ambassador,” she said.

“Lieutenant Commander Kirk,” he said in response.

“It seems our son has chosen the commander’s child as the Terran item he wishes to bring home,” Amanda said.

Under his breath, where only Amanda could hear him, he sighed. “It is illogical to bring an infant into our home, as you are too young to be fully responsible for his care. Perhaps an inanimate object to remind you of this journey.”

Spock looked at his father, a petulant gleam in his eyes, then he glanced over at Winona and Jim as though he might reconsider his earlier acquiesce. “I…”

“Perhaps I can provide you with my comm link,” Winona said. “On your next journey to Earth, we can get the boys together to play. We’re in San Francisco all the time, now that George was promoted.”

Sarek nodded, and Amanda felt flushed with relief. “I believe that is acceptable. Spock, please go and choose your item. We must be on our way to the shuttle in six point eight minutes.”

Spock didn’t move, however, just stepped closer to Winona and tugged her sleeve until she crouched back down. She seemed to understand him, and without saying a word, she turned to the side so Spock could see Jim’s face.

“Live long and prosper. I will teach it to you in Vulcan when you have reached an appropriate age.” Spock’s hand lifted, hesitated, then Amanda’s breath caught in her throat as Spock’s fingers touched the infant’s psi-points. They lingered only a moment, then Spock pulled back and nodded. “Yes. This is the one. I shall choose my item now, mother.”

Winona rose, looking somewhat struck by the whole interaction, and Amanda glanced at Sarek for help, only he had walked off again. With a sigh, Amanda shrugged. “You’d think I’d understand, after all these years being married to one.”

Winona laughed. “He’s sweet, and believe me, it could be worse. Anyway here, let me give you my link…” She pulled her comm out of her pocket.

By the time they left the shop, Amanda had her things, her son, her husband, and a tentative friendship with a Starfleet commander.

When they were safely strapped in the shuttle, Amanda turned to her son who was staring at the small replica of the Farragut held tentatively in his hands. “Spock?”

“Yes, mother?” he asked, turning his big, brown eyes onto her.

“When you said he is the one…about Jim, what did you mean?”

Spock quirked an eyebrow, looking so much like Sarek then, it made her chest tight. “He is t’hy’la,” Spock said, as simply as he would have said that Vulcan has two suns and no moon. It was the same surety she’d heard once, in Sarek’s voice, when she asked him if he was sure that he wanted to marry a human woman.

It made something glow in her when she looked at her son, and she knew whatever the future held, her boy was going be loved. And he was going to love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Spock has taken Jim into his lap, and has arranged him carefully. Then, after a beat, leans down and presses a very human kiss onto his brow—much like the kisses Amanda would give him when he was younger, when he tolerated it._
> 
> _Spock looks up, almost for approval. “You stated human babies require this affection in order to survive. I have been practicing on my sehlat.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg okay I got so many comments and requests for more, that I decided to go ahead and open this up for a few more chapters. They're all possible stand-alones, but this seemed to make more sense than a new fic every time. 
> 
> Uhhh sorry about the tense changes between chapters. Sometimes I'm just really feeling present tense, so I go with it.
> 
> Some of Amanda's thoughts about having a half-Vulcan child is taken from some of the stuff my mom has confessed to me over the years being a white mom and raising a mixed kid who didn't look like her at all. It just kind of seemed fitting for this.

When Amanda was younger, she’d been on the fence about the whole idea of marriage and kids. She rested firmly in the camp of, whatever happens, happens. Frankly it’s a very Vulcan thought, once she thought about it, orbiting around the Vulcan principal of Kaiidith. The existence of Spock sits firmly outside of that—outside of Kaiidith. Because it took laboratories and experiments, and miscarriages, and failed tests. It took removing the child from her body and watching him grow inside of a tank for months, not knowing if he’d live or die because he was the _only_ one of his kind and without this sort of intervention, he would not have existed.

Spock will never be Kaiidith. He exists in spite of what is.

What he is, though, is persistent. He’s smarter than his peers, and he’s brave in the face of so much disdain that no child—Vulcan or not—should ever have to live through. He’s his father’s son through and through, but there are pieces of her that she holds tight and treasured against her chest.

His stubborn nature, for one, which has him asking about the little infant named James T. Kirk he’d attempted to kidnap on his journey home. He asks about him daily. “Mother, do terran children grow at the same rate as Vulcan children?”

“For the most part, Spock, they do.”

“So do you believe he will be ready to join me here on Vulcan?” He scoops up a bite of his plomeek soup and sips it, staring with his big, big brown eyes. Yet another human trait—Spock cannot seem to help himself from talking while he eats. Sarek finds it endearing. For now.

“No, sweetheart. By terran standards, we’ve only been away about six months. It means that—if he’s on a standard course of development, he will just be learning to walk.”

Spock sighs quietly, finishes his soup, then gets up to sit quietly with I-Chaya and work on his datapadd.

A trip to earth is scheduled for exactly one year and six days from the day Spock met Jim. Amanda knows this precisely—not because she has learned to keep an accurate, internal clock of events in her life, but because her son insists on informing her every single morning since the day they left.

_“It has been exactly eight months and four days since we left earth, Mother.”_

Once upon a time, when Spock was an infant and did very little crying, and the idea of terrible twos were nearly unheard of in Vulcan children, Amanda thought perhaps she was being cheated out of the reality of raising a child. At least, everything she had grown up believing a child should be. 

And then Spock met Jim.

And it isn’t tantrums. It’s persistent, nagging, unrelenting questions and reminders that Spock wants something that is outside of his reach, and no matter how many days, weeks, months—possibly even years—pass, he will not forget.

God help the universe if the two of them are not able to reunite when they’re old enough.

To spare her own sanity, and even Sarek’s—she can see the pulse of a vein in his temple whenever Spock’s mouth opens these days—she comms Winona and says a silent prayer to a long-abandoned God that they will be anywhere near San Francisco.

“Actually, George is teaching a class at the Academy this term, so yes. We’re there. Isn’t that lucky?” Winona sounds quiet, but more chipper than she expected for a woman with a two year old human.

“You have no idea,” is her only response.

They make quick plans to meet up at her place, as Amanda isn’t sure about how friendly their lodgings will be to a young, human boy.

~*~ 

Spock is fidgeting. Well, as much as a Vulcan boy ever does. He’s nearly six and peering out the window of the aircar, and she can see him fighting back the urge to reach up and tug at his collar which he claimed was illogical due to the nature of his discomfort at having terran fabric so high up on his neck. She reminded him back at the estate that the Kirk’s probably won’t have climate controls adjusted to accommodate a Vulcan, so it was actually logical to wear items that would prevent him from catching a chill.

Spock doesn’t like it, but is forced to acquiesce. It’s obvious he wishes to behave less like a Vulcan in this moment, and she wonders if it’s mostly nerves.

Something happened with that child, she knows. Sarek thinks Spock was able to sense his mind—the potential for compatibility which startled Amanda, though Sarek took it in stride. “It is common for young Vulcans to sense such things. And as he is my son, it is not startling he would find compatibility in a human mate. I have made other arrangements.”

That’s all he says on the matter, and Amanda knows Sarek’s been courting Vulcan families for Spock’s first bondmate. She thinks it’s going to be T’Pring—the little girl who stares at Spock openly, and asks questions that anyone else in the universe would be considered rude. Amanda doesn’t like her simply because she knows that T’Pring has no qualms about openly reminding Spock of his differences.

She wonders how much Vulcans could actually learn if they stopped seeing humans as so inferior, but that’s not a battle she’s willing to wage. Not for an entire species. On behalf of her son though…

It’s possibly why she’s here.

The aircar comes to a stop, and Spock follows closely as they’re let into the building, and the doorman rings the Kirk’s flat before sending them up in the turbolift. Spock stares at the buttons, and cocks his head to the side to listen when the voice speaks plainly and softly, informing them of their floor.

He sticks to her elbow, and she has an irrational urge—one she hasn’t had in years—to reach down and take his hand. But she doesn’t want to embarrass him, so she merely rings the buzzer and waits.

Winona opens the door, and there’s the smell of something fresh baked, and the sound of something light and musical on the holovid. “Come on in.”

Amanda ushers Spock in with a light touch to his clothed shoulder, and they stop in the foyer. Winona looks a little harried, her blonde hair tied back in a messy knot, and she’s got a smear of what looks like baking flour on the edge of her black pants. 

“It’s been a day. My oldest is furious that we had to come here for the semester, and I’m trying to kind of…ease the way with cookies. Only I was never much of a baker.” She offers a small, tense smile, and Amanda softens.

“Neither was I. Luckily that’s not really necessary on Vulcan.” She puts her hand on Spock’s shoulder once more to gain his attention. “Can you please say hello to Mrs. Kirk?”

When Amanda kneels down to face him, Spock holds up the ta’al, and says in practiced formality, “Diff-tor heh smusa.”

“Sochya eh diff,” Winona says back perfectly, and winks at Amanda as she rises back up. “Now Spock, would you like to see Jim again?”

Amanda has never in her life seen her son with such a naked expression on his face before. Perhaps when he was very young, when he was still struggling between his Vulcan and human instincts in infancy, but this is…it causes something warm, and almost afraid to rise in her.

Spock opens his mouth to speak, but it’s clear he’s overwhelmed so he closes it, then nods. Winona huffs a small, amused chuckle and then leads the way further into the house.

They have a sitting room, and there’s a larger boy on the sofa who looks a lot like her—a mop of blonde curls, and a little, upturned nose, and freckles. He’s watching some animal show on the holo, his arms crossed sullenly, and he doesn’t greet them as they all walk in, though Amanda does see him give Spock a second glance.

It’s not as kind as she’d hoped, but not as cruel as she feared, and for a moment it saddens her to realize how often she’ll have to brace herself for the casual xenophobia Spock will face during these trips to earth.

“Sam,” Winona says patiently, these are our guests. This is the Ambassador Sarek’s wife, Amanda, and her son, Spock.

Sam sniffs. “Hullo,” he says, then his eyes turn resolutely to the holo.

Winona scrubs a hand across her forehead. “I am so sorry. It’s…”

“The age,” Amanda supplies. “I had two little sisters, nine years younger than I was, and I had to take care of them when my parents were off-planet. I remember what it was like.”

Winona offers her a smile of solidarity. “Anyway, around here,” she says, and leads the way into what Amanda thought might be a office, but turns out to be a sort of play-room. It’s bright, with a wide viewscreen of the city below, and quite a few toys. And there’s a big playmat, and sitting in the middle is Jim.

He looks like a bigger version of the little baby Spock had carried in his arms. His hair is more golden now, thicker, his face a little longer, but retains that sweet, baby roundness in the apples of his cheeks. He turns, a serious look on his face until his eyes land on Spock. Then his mouth falls open in a perfect O.

Amanda holds her breath. Jim’s little chin wobbles, and two big, fat alligator tears roll down his cheeks. Spock stiffens, then approaches the toddler and kneels down. Jim’s still crying, but not the loud, wailing kind that’s nothing more than a demand for attention. This is something different, something overwhelmed and confused.

Spock observes the toddler, touches the tip of his fingers to a tear track, then turns to Amanda and Winona. “Unacceptable. He is leaking.”

Winona composes herself by pressing her fingers to her mouth for a moment. Then she says, “That’s called crying. Human babies do it when they feel overwhelmed, or sad, sometimes hungry, or tired.”

Spock looks back at him, then says, “Do you require rest or sustenance?” 

Jim merely reaches out, and with his chubby little hands, manages to knock Spock down on his backside and then climb into his lap. Winona gasps, then takes a step forward. “Jim, sweetheart!”

Amanda stops her gently, grabbing her wrist. Spock has taken Jim into his lap, and has arranged him carefully. Then, after a beat, leans down and presses a very human kiss onto his brow—much like the kisses Amanda would give him when he was younger, when he tolerated it.

Spock looks up, almost for approval. “You stated human babies require this affection in order to survive. I have been practicing on my sehlat.”

Amanda nearly combusts. She…she hadn’t known. God, how had she not managed to walk in on that. She fights the urge to react outwardly, to put her hand over her heart—or give in to her more baser, human instincts and gather both children to her bosom and cover them in kisses.

“You did a good job, Spock,” Amanda says instead. “Look, he’s stopped crying.”

Spock looks down at Jim who’s just staring at him with his big, wide hazel eyes. Spock touches his cheeks which are drying now. “Fascinating,” he says.

Amanda purses her lips, then looks over at Winona who doesn’t seem quite sure what to make of it. “Is this…usual?”

“No,” Amanda says simply. “But then again, nothing about him is usual.” Kaiidith. What is, is. Spock is simply his own being, a child of both worlds and it will be interesting to see what becomes of him. For now, she’s certain her hypothesis is correct. Whatever this is, it’s important. Even if it leads to nothing in the future. Whatever is happening now means something.

Winona sighs after a moment, then beckons Amanda along. “Come on, we can have a coffee and a chat while these two get to know each other a little better.”

Amanda glances over and sees Jim now babbling words in half-standard, half toddler jabber, and he’s waving a small replica of a starship at Spock who is listening intently, and nodding as though Jim is spilling all the secrets of the universe. She wants to stay, to bask in this, to savor every moment, but she knows it’s not really hers to have.

They move to the kitchen, and they talk, and Amanda feels comforted here in the presence of a human who isn’t really all that _human_ in the end. Winona is a wild force of nature—smart, strong, fierce—and Amanda feels at home again.

She smiles, and doesn’t feel self-conscious, and her laugh isn’t muted. The coffee is good, and the company is better, and even little Sam eventually thaws and comes over to ask Amanda about being a human on Vulcan, and what space travel is like.

The hour goes by quickly, and after Amanda’s ten-minute warning to Spock that they will have to depart, she looks over to find Spock with Jim’s hand in right, and a small suitcase decorated with stars in his left. Amanda’s eyebrows go up. “What are you doing?”

“Jim is ready, mother. I have packed the things he will need for the journey. The rest we can procure at the market back home.”

Winona’s eyes are sparkling with mirth. “Is that so? Jimmy, you ready to go live on Vulcan?”

“Yeah!” the boy agrees happily.

Amanda turns a look on her son. “And what makes you think that two years old is old enough, Spock?”

“Mrs. Kirk informed me that my attempts to ensure I can provide Jim what he will need in order to be cared for were sufficient. Therefore it is only logical he is ready to depart and live with us.” Spock’s little hand tightens over Jim’s, and Jim giggles.

Amanda sighs quietly. “Spock, your efforts are admirable, but Jim’s still a baby. He has growing and learning, and,” she says quickly when he opens his mouth to argue, “he needs more than hugs and kisses to sustain him, though your accomplishments in such a human area are impressive for a Vulcan boy.”

Spock’s cheeks tinge green, and he tugs Jim a little closer. “But…”

“You are starting your full-time education at the Academy this year, Spock,” Amanda warns him. “It will not be enough time for you to oversee your education and Jim’s care. He will have to stay here on Vulcan until he’s old enough to travel space on his own.” She sees the devastation in her son’s eyes, and she feels something crack, threaten to crumble. Her voice softens. “All the same, we’re going to be here for three weeks. You can see him again.”

Spock looks dubious at this, eyes flickering between Amanda and Winona like maybe this is some human trick designed to deceive him. “How often?” he asks.

And yes, he’s definitely her son. 

“How about you can see him once per day, if that works with your mother’s schedule?” Winona offers. “While my husband is teaching, we don’t have a lot to do, and there’s a lot of neat stuff to see around the city. Maybe we can go to the zoo this week?”

Spock considers this, and then looks down at Jim. “It is an acceptable compromise.” He lets go, though he’s reluctant about it. Before they leave the apartment, Spock approaches Jim and holds out his arms in a tentative request for an embrace. Jim merely giggles and runs, throwing his arms around Spock’s middle and knocking him back a step.

“Okay, bye bye!” Jim says.

Spock kisses his forehead again, then steps back and offers the ta’al. “Taluhk nash-veh k’dular,” Spock says, and resolutely does not look at his mother when he says it. For her part, Amanda manages to remain composed, but she stiffens when Winona leans into her space.

“We’re going to have to worry about these two, aren’t we?”

Amanda can’t help a small smile as Spock steps up to her, ready to leave. “You know,” she says, and drops her hand to Spock’s shoulder, “I don’t think there’s reason to worry at all.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I have no idea where this story is actually going, and this chapter is pretty meh, and I'm really sorry about that. I do have an ending in mind, so that's something, right? Anyway thank you for all the kudos and the comments. I'm going to try to reply to them all right now, but either way, they give me life.

There were times during the year when insomnia would strike. Sarek had tried several remedies to help his wife sleep, but after a time, they were both resigned to her fate of wakefulness late into the night. Those were the nights she’d occupy herself in her garden, or spend time baking old terran-style recipes for her husband and son to try when morning came.

It is one of these nights that Amanda finds herself thumbing through an ancient terran cookbook her mother had gifted her on her wedding day. She had exhausted what she could—the ingredients difficult to replicate and still taste the way she wanted, but she is feeling restless and needed something to take her mind off things.

She eventually abandons the idea, and creeps through the hall, on her way to the library to find something to read when she hears a quiet voice coming from her son’s room. Though Vulcans didn’t sleep nearly as long as humans did, the children still needed a full night of rest or meditation. Spock has always been a good child when it comes to that, so hearing the soft lilt of his voice surprises her.

Amanda stops at his door, peering through the crack, and she finds her son curled up on his bed with the blanket around him, draped over his head and clutched to his chest with one hand. The other hand holds a padd, and he’s staring into the glowing screen as he speaks. “…to think of such things. It will take some time.”

There’s a pause, then another voice—younger than Spock’s, but no less familiar after all this time. “But I don’t like him! He’s mean. He yelleded at Sam and said if I’m not bein’good mommy’s not coming back.”

“It is not logical for your mother’s return to be contingent upon your behavior, Jim,” Spock says softly. The words might be harsh, but his tone is far from, and it makes Amanda’s heart beat swiftly in her chest. “Your mother has a great deal of affection for you, and it is only a psychological technique your uncle is employing to get you to obey his authority.”

“Wha’s psycatogical?”

“Psychological,” Spock corrects patiently. “A matter of the mind, Jim. He is manipulating your thought patterns to ensure obedience. It is perhaps best to follow his rules, and soon your mother shall return.”

There’s the world’s smallest sigh on the other end, then Jim says, “Can I come live wiff you?”

“I have proposed this several times, but both of our parents believe it would not benefit us as children. I do not agree, but as they have more experience than I…I must acquiesce to their decision.”

“I wish I could come’an live wiff you,” Jim says.

Amanda sees her son soften, and let go of the blanket to press his fingers to the screen of the padd. “I wish it too, ashaya. But as I am not yet of legal age, and you are merely five terran years, there is little we can do.”

“When are you coming back? I haff ta show you my new ship!” Jim’s voice reaches a high-pitched crescendo with his excitement, and it’s by sheer will alone that Amanda doesn’t laugh out loud.

“I hope soon. But my father has been decidedly against a journey to earth. Now, I must go. I require at least two more hours of meditation if I am to be at optimum performance for my lessons tomorrow.”

“Sweet dreams,” Jim says. “Don’t lett’a beg bugs bite you!”

“Vulcans do not dream,” Spock says, but there’s a gentle upturn to his lips that Amanda sees so, so rarely. “And I believe you are referring to _bed_ bugs, which I assure you are not a nuisance here on Vulcan. But I shall endeavor to take care. And…I miss you.”

Jim sniffs. “Me too.”

“Sleep well, ashaya.”

“Okay love you, bye bye.”

Amanda backs away as Spock’s padd goes dark, and she feels a sudden bone-deep exhaustion as she makes her way back to her bed instead of the library. Sarek stirs, not asleep, and not in deep mediation either. He turns on his side when she slips beneath the sheet, and his hand reaches out for hers.

Their fingers brush, then he leans in and presses his lips to her psi-points in a brief kiss. “My wife, you are troubled.”

Amanda sighs out quietly. “We should plan a trip to earth soon. Spock misses Jim.”

Sarek’s lips thin as he rolls onto his back, his hands clasped over his middle. “I do not believe it wise to continue encouraging the relationship he has with that boy.”

“Sarek,” Amanda starts.

“He was distracted during the khas’wan and was nearly injured. And his bond with T’Pring is fragile at best. The risk…”

“I know,” she interrupts, and in a way, she does know. She agreed to the bond with T’Pring only because she understands on a primal level that humans are fickle, that humans aren’t like Vulcans. Rarely do they deal in absolutes, and too often their emotions send them careening in one direction or another. She can’t risk Spock’s life should Jim turn out to be one who falls in love with anyone else. Deep in her heart, she knows that this is more than just some human fancy, but her logical desire to protect her son outweighs that feeling.

All the same, she knows that there’s something inside of Spock meant only for Jim. She understand the gravity of t’hy’la, and understands that should Jim be someone willing to give himself to Spock for the rest of his life, they won’t need a healer to dissolve the bond with T’Pring. It will take but a word, but a kiss, and Spock will be his.

They’re children, though. They’re children and there’s opportunity for Spock to have the love of storybooks and mythological epics. So she can’t let this go.

“Spock isn’t well respected amongst his peers, Sarek. And he likes Jim. He asks for so little, and to let him have this…”

There’s a long pause, but eventually Sarek nods in that way that she knows means he’s not happy, but he’s willing to give in without much of a fight. “I will inform the embassy tomorrow, and we shall make a trip to earth.”

“Thank you,” she says. She holds her hand for ozh’esta, and he too willingly presses his fingers to hers. She feels the warmth radiating up her arm, and it calms what little anxiety she has left. Her eyes close, and she finally sleeps.

~*~ 

Amanda sees the comm message from Sarek first thing upon waking. They will be leaving for Earth in two weeks, and will be there for three. It’s not enough time, she knows. Years have gone by between visits, but it’s something at the very least.

She showers in the sonic, and dresses. She secures her veil over her hair, then walks to the dining room to find Spock seated in front of his breakfast. He gives his mother her customary nod of greeting, and she does what she can to keep her excitement from bubbling over.

“Spock,” she says.

He looks over, and she can read the mild surprise in his face at her addressing him during a meal time.

“Your father wished me to inform you that we will be leaving in one week. For Earth.”

Spock’s entire face twitches, and he smiles though he draws it flat in only moments. “I am to…accompany you?”

“You are. Three weeks,” she says, then hides her smile in her coffee cup. “You might want to comm Jim Kirk and let him know.”

Spock’s breakfast is all-but abandoned now, and he rises, trying to keep his steps slow, though she can see his childish urge to run. He makes it to the door before he stops, turns, and marches back to her side. After a long moment of hesitation, he leans in and presses his lips to her temple briefly and he mutters, “Thank you,” before turning and leaving the room.

She presses two fingers to the echo of the kiss, and she thinks that it might be the first time her son has ever shown her human affection. And oh, she knows that he loves her—there has never been a doubt in her mind. But when she considered all the good Jim Kirk and loving a human might do for her boy, she never imagined this.

When Sarek gets home, she won’t tell him. She’ll keep this locked up for her alone, because he won’t understand, and she doesn’t need to see Spock crushed by another one of his father’s disappointments in his human side. But it renews her determination to see this through, to ensure this blossoming something has room to grow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will, at some point, write from Spock or Jim's POV, but it probably won't be until toward the end. I've been on the fence about doing anything later years, like post-academy, so feel free to leave me a comment and let me know if you'd like to read that or not. Or if I should do a separate fic with them older than children. 
> 
> Also if anyone has ideas about kid!Spirk, feel free to leave a comment. I'm more than happy to take suggestions!

Amanda has learned to read her Vulcan boys like the back of her own hand. For all the logic and the lack of outward emotions, she discovered that it was like any other type of study. Learning Golic was more than just a language, it was learning to read the most subtle of hints on expression and body language.

It was with that she was able to tell that something wasn’t right with her son. His lessons were going well, and it wasn’t a struggle for him to surpass his peers at the Institute. When Spock first started his lessons, she had confessed a certain apprehension regarding his ability to make friends, and Sarek was careful in informing her that it was not unusual that young Vulcan children did not have any.

“We strive to bond with our mates, and with our families, but relationships beyond that are based on logic, on what they can offer us. There is no need to pursue connections beyond that, and as Spock is Vulcan, he will have no need to make _friends_ the way a human child would.”

Amanda wanted to correct him then, to remind him of Jim, and how eager Spock was to see the terran boy every time they landed on earth. But she knew that would only irritate her husband, it would only serve to make the distances between visits to earth longer and longer.

Amanda accepted that raising Spock would be nothing like she imagined, and she respected his choice to follow the ways of Surak, to be nothing like his half-brother, who had long-since been banished from the planet. She accepted she would see little, if any, displays of raw emotion. And she accepted that Spock would not seek out peers for leisure time, and she accepted that there would be xenophobia and disdain when it came to Spock’s heritage, and how the other children perceived him.

She had kept her mouth shut—mostly—when Spock came home bloody-lipped and tired from physical altercations, and she even let Sarek take the lead when it came to instructing Spock on how to deal with those children’s taunts.

But she is no fool, and she can read her son. He is ten, and he is tired, and the simple fact that he still has no connection to any of those Vulcan children is weighing on him.

“Do you see T’Pring often?” she asks him one evening when he agreed to help her in the garden. She’s been pruning the same succulent plant for over twenty minutes now, and she knows that Spock knows it’s a stalling tactic.

All the same, his care for her is what keeps him from calling it out. “Yes, mother.”

“And do you…how do you find her? Will she be a suitable match for you?”

Spock is silent for a while, gently petting the furred leaf of a wild plant Amanda had found, and hadn’t the heart to cut down. “She is…displeased by our bond, I think. She has not made her reasons plain. All the same, she is a logical match, and I believe she understands that.”

Amanda’s eyebrows rise gently, and she doesn’t bother to point out how alike Vulcans and humans can be when it comes to their mates. “You’re not happy at school.”

“Happiness is of no consequence to me, mother. I am satisfied with my progress.”

Amanda bites the inside of her cheek in an effort to argue, to tell Spock that happiness might not be of consequence, but he still deserves to feel it. She looks up to the stars, and she mentally counts the calendar days on earth and realizes it’s just past the new year there. Winter.

An idea strikes her. “Spock, will you finish pruning these for me? I must run in and use the comm for a moment.”

“Yes, mother,” he says, and she can see the curiosity welling in his eyes, but sees his restraint in asking why she must go.

She holds her breath as she reaches the office. Sarek is gone—will be for the next four months. Of course she doesn’t need his permission to go anywhere or do anything, as much as he likes to think so. And this isn’t about him, anyway.

She picks up the vidcomm and dials. She knows the time difference isn’t too much, knows she probably won’t be interrupting much. Her heart speeds up when the familiar blonde appears on the screen. “Amanda!”

Her lips stretch into a grin. “Winona, happy new year.”

The woman laughs. “Same to you. Is that why you’re calling? Jim’s asleep, but I could wake him if…”

“No, no,” Amanda interrupts. “Actually I was ah…” She glances toward the door to make sure no sensitive little Vulcan ears are listening. “Spock’s having a difficult time at school, and I was thinking maybe a short break is in order. Are you in Iowa?”

Amanda nods. “I don’t think we’ll be anywhere near San Francisco any time soon.”

“No, that’s perfect,” Amanda says. “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind two visitors.”

Amanda’s eyes brighten. “Not at all. I won’t tell Jim either. We can surprise both of them.”

Winona’s grin widens. “Tell me, is there snow there?”

Amanda, well aware of Vulcan climate, merely laughs. 

~*~ 

Amanda is, at the very least, expecting some sort of lecture from her son, or at the very least an inquiry as to why they were suddenly leaving Vulcan. Only it doesn’t happen. She knows she’s transparent, and it’s not really the journey to see Jim she’s hoping to surprise him with, but the experience of his first true, terran winter.

She’s packed well enough—or at least she hopes. The thickest sweaters she’s spent hours and hours making. Spock always dresses in layers for space travel, even if the Vulcan ships are kept at Vulcan climate, so she thinks he’ll be fine when they set foot in Iowa.

Spock really doesn’t seem to notice anything strange until they land at the station in Iowa City. Spock stares out the viewscreen with wide eyes, then looks back over at his mother. “I do not understand, mother.”

“I know you said the bullying doesn’t bother you,” Amanda says quietly, unable to stop herself from brushing her hand, just once, over Spock’s hair. It says something that he doesn’t pull away. “But I can see it in your face. You’re my son and Vulcan or not, it’s my job to protect you. I can’t stop what those kids say, but I can at least get us away from it. For a little while.”

“I do not require time away, mother,” Spock says, but there’s no real fight in his tone.

“Well I do. Because I’m fully human, not just half, and there are times when the pressures of being a human woman on Vulcan get to me,” she confesses. She wants him to know she understands, that he’s not alone.

Understanding dawns in his eyes, and it’s a mark of his still-young age that there’s a moment where it’s completely visible. “Others have cast insults at you,” he says.

Amanda shrugs. “There is no logic in insulting your heritage, especially when your heritage has done nothing to hinder your abilities. Even if,” she says when he opens his mouth to argue, “your control over emotions aren’t as strong as your peers. Your ability to feel—however you feel, Spock—has done nothing to lessen your progress. Therefore,” she says slowly, having learned to speak like a Vulcan enough to get through to both her mate, and her son, “there is no logic behind those insults. It is simply…an emotional reaction to something they do not understand.”

Spock stares at her, and she knows then he _understands_ exactly what she means. Maybe it won’t sink in now, maybe Spock won’t ever fully believe that he’s not less than, but it’s something. For now. And for now, she can give him this.

“Come on, there’s an aircar waiting.”

He follows her without questions or complaint, and she directs the aircar to the Kirk address.

~*~ 

On the ride, Spock is fascinated by the endless sea of snow outside the window. It’s a rarity to have so much open space that isn’t built up by population expansion, or industry, or commerce. Vulcan has long, wide stretches of open, unpopulated desert, but that is solely due to the inhospitable land where no Vulcan could survive long. This is deliberate, an act to preserve some nature.

Spock looks like he has a thousand questions burning, but he keeps them to himself.

The journey becomes very clear, in the end, when they pull up to the Kirk residence and Jim is there waiting on the porch. He’s little more than a puffy ball of winter coat, hat, and gloves, but there’s a thatch of golden-blonde hair on his forehead, and his hazel eyes are glimmering with excitement at the arrival of the car.

He’s near bouncing up and down by the time the car comes to a stop, and Amanda can feel the anticipation practically vibrating off her own son as he glances back at her with a naked, open expression of wonder on his face.

“You have brought me to see Jim,” he says, not quite a question.

She answers all the same. “Yes, Spock. It’s been a long year, and he missed you.”

“To miss someone is illogical,” Spock says, like it’s automatic. His hands grapple for the door the moment the car is no longer in motion, and though his strides do not match the frantic strides of Jim as the small boy launches off the porch at full speed, there is no less enthusiasm as Spock opens his arms and lets Jim jump into them.

There’s a sizable difference about them now, Amanda notes. Spock is eleven, and hitting a growth spurt which will carry him into his teens. Jim is eight, and no longer the round-faced, chubby-fingered toddler he was when they visited last in San Francisco, but the little giggle and the high-pitched tone to his voice when he’s excited is exactly the same.

He’s jabbering a mile a minute as Amanda grabs their things out of the trunk of the car. “…and we can built this fort—my dad showed me how, and it can keep you warm even in the snow. You can’t put fire in it, that’ll melt it. But I have extra gloves. And mommy says to be careful because you don’t like cold, because your planet is real, real hot. And I went to space! Did I tell you I went to space? Just to go with mommy to the Mars colony but I was in a real ship and everything!”

Spock is looking on, a small, fond smile just at the corners of his mouth, and his hand firmly ensconced in Jim’s gloved one as Jim drags him to the porch. “You commed me from Mars, Jim,” Spock says, a gentle chide in his voice.

“I grew a flower there! You want to see it. It’s really pretty, it’s orange and it’s in a little stasis dome. Come on, I can show you!”

Spock looks back a little helplessly, but Amanda waves Spock off as Winona steps around from the kitchen with two cups of steaming coffee.

“You look like you need this,” she says.

Amanda nearly laughs as she takes it, and savors the first sip of the terran brew she’s had in so long. Sarek had been putting his foot down about the trips to earth, and it’s been nearly two years. “This is exactly what I needed,” she confesses.

Winona leads her to a living room which is neat and tidy, and the couch soft as she sits. “I’m glad you were able to make it. Jim was starting to think you were never coming back.”

Amanda sighs, clutching her mug as she listens. She can’t hear her son, but she can still hear the tone of Jim’s excited narrative in his room. “Sarek is…” She trails off. She doesn’t want to speak bad of her husband—she knows he loves her, and loves their son, and wants the best for them both. But Sarek is full Vulcan and she’s starting to understand he may not entirely know what Spock needs. Neither of them really do. “Spock has chosen to lead a Vulcan life, but I’m not entirely sure if it’s because that’s what he wants, or if he’s only trying to please his father. And he seems to think that Spock pushing through all of the…all the shit,” she spits out, “that those kids put Spock through, is the only way he’ll be able to shoulder the burden of being a Half Vulcan.”

Winona looks lost, like she’s not sure what to say, and Amanda doesn’t begrudge her that since really, she doesn’t know what to say most days, either.

The subject turns to other things—to Amanda’s work on the solar system colonies, to raising the boys, to George’s mission which is three years on a science vessel. The boys miss him, she says, and Sam has been acting out more and more.

“Jim kind of gets lost in the chaos. He’s such a good boy—sweet and mostly quiet. And I’m not sure I’m doing right by him, you know? I just…forget he needs me.” She drags a hand down her face, and Amanda is profoundly aware then that they might be raising two different species of children, but mothers across the universe are just that. _Mothers._

“I wish we could be around more,” Amanda says. “I wish…” Her words are cut off by the sight of Jim dragging Spock out, and it’s by sheer will alone she doesn’t dissolve into laughter because it seems that Jim has provided Spock with what has to be Sam’s old winter coat. It’s slightly too big, and it’s round and puffy, a bright white with almost offensively neon blue trimming. He’s got a hat jammed on his head, and his face is barely visible above the collar of the coat. “Oh sweetheart, you look like a marshmallow.”

“Marshmellon?” Spock asks. “What is that?”

“It’s so yummy candy!” Jim offers, tugging Spock toward the door. “We’re going to make a snow fort now, kay?”

“You boys have fun, and be careful,” Winona reminds him. “Spock isn’t used to the cold, so no putting snow in his jacket, James Tiberius.”

“Uhg, I woooon’t,” Jim drawls, then they’re out the door, and it slams behind them.

Winona looks back at Amanda, and they both burst into laughter. “He looks adorable,” Winona says.

Amanda swipes at her eyes, then stands to peer out the front window where Jim is now burrowing into the snow and Spock is watching with arms crossed, and a disgruntled look on his pale face. To any outsider, they would assume the boy is having no fun at all, but Amanda knows better. She sees the glint in his brown, soft eyes, and the way he can’t keep his gaze off Jim. She sees the way his mouth flickers into a smile, and the way his internal laughter is bubbling when he balls up snow the way Jim taught him, and pelts the younger boy on the side of the head.

She finally turns back to Winona with softness in her chest, and a weight off her shoulders. “This was a good idea.”

Winona looks on after the boys, the way they’re hunkering into the fort now, and Jim clearly making a battle plan against imaginary enemies. It’s not forever, obviously, it’s not even for long. But it’s for now. Which has to be enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two days, two chapters. I had this one finished, but I had to re-write it because I forgot I aged Spock and Jim up from toddlers so their language was off.
> 
> Also recently we got copies of the AOS movies with audio descriptions, so I was finally able to have a marathon, and now the struggle is real when I'm writing because I keep calling Amanda 'Winona' thanks to Winona Ryder playing her. If you see any places that say Winona instead of Amanda, that's why. Uhg.

Amanda creeps up the stairs to bring the boys down for the morning meal. She’s bone tired, not just from travel to earth, but from the argument over comm when she informed Sarek she would not be returning to Vulcan to welcome him home.

“You can come here,” she had said, her voice hard and irritated. “Spock needs a break from everything, Sarek, and I mean to see that he has one.”

“My wife, you are being irrational. There is no logic in keeping Spock from his peers. He will not learn to manage his emotions if you persist on removing him from every situation that is unpleasant.” His voice was annoyingly deadpan, and there was a small, very human part of her that wanted to push and push until her husband broke and showed even the slightest inflection.

“There’s no logic in forcing him to be constantly tormented by those xenophobic little…” She stopped herself then, because she knew that as much as Sarek loved her and their son, he would always defend Vulcan over anything else. “I’m his mother, and I have acquiesced to every single one of your decisions on how we raise him, but right now, I’m stepping in. If you don’t want to join us, that’s fine. I won’t force you, but I’m also not coming home yet.”

“Then I shall see you and our son upon your arrival. Whenever that is.” And if Amanda hadn’t known better, there was some definite passive-aggression in those words. His face, his tone, however, showed none of it.

The comm had ended, and she had tried, but failed, to sleep. Her heart felt heavy, torn in two between trying to protect her son, and understanding that Spock would never deal with his issues in a human way.

For now, she would put it aside. She would let Spock enjoy these quiet moments with the small, human boy he had chosen almost five years ago in that little shop.

She stops on the landing, Jim’s door the first on the right, and she raises her hand to knock, but stills when she hears the boys talking. The door is cracked, and she’s quiet as a mouse as she leans in to press her face to the sliver of opening.

“…is that word. I can’t even say it, Spock,” Jim complains.

Spock sighs. “It is illogical to assume you would, Jim. It is a Vulcan word, therefore your human tongue is not meant for it.”

Jim crosses his arms, a stubborn frown furrowing his little, blonde brow. “Imma do it though. Imma learn some Vulcan and then talk to you in it because I can!”

“You cannot presently, but your determination may assist you in such a frustrating endeavor. As such, I will gift you an easier word. It is one most humans do not struggle with.”

Jim leans forward eagerly, bouncing in his little crouch. “Kay!”

“Ashayam.” Spock pronounces it slowly, carefully, and Amanda feels her heart pound against her ribs. She’s almost afraid Spock’s sensitive, Vulcan ears will pick up the sound, but for the moment, she remains either unnoticed, or Spock does not care she’s there. “It means beloved.”

“Like love?” Jim questions, hazel eyes wide and bright. “My mommy loves my daddy, so they got married and had Sam, then me. Do you love me?”

“I hold you with great affection, t’hy’la,” Spock says.

Amanda’s throat is tight now, and she almost backs away, almost lets Spock keep this all for himself. But she knows what awaits when they return to Vulcan, and she’s not sure when she will be able to steal away with her son again.

“Kay then we could just…get married,” Jim says, a nod like he’s just made the grandest decision of his life.

Spock cocks his head to the side. “I am…unfamiliar with that human term.”

“Your mommy and daddy didn’t get married?” Jim asks, falling back onto his bottom. He curls his legs into his chest and gives Spock a careful look. “Mommy says that’s okay too, that you could um…that you could love someone but not get married.”

“My parents are bonded,” Spock says simply.

Jim hums. “Okay we can do that too, but being married too, okay?”

“How does one engage in married?” Spock asks.

Jim gets up, rushing to his bed where there are stuffed animals. Amanda nearly laughs as she watches him tap one, small finger on his lips. He then selects two animals—a penguin and a duck—and he turns and sets them in front of Spock. “This is Fredrick,” he says, kicking at the penguin with his toes. “And this is Abraham. And they’re in love so they got married today.”

Spock nods amiably. 

“So we just…gotta say some vows, and then they kiss.”

Spock stands and holds up two fingers in ohz’esta and Jim stares at him. Spock is patient as he reaches for Jim’s wrist, and manipulates his hand into the position, then pushes the tips of his fingers along Jim’s. It’s nothing as intimate as Sarek shares with Amanda. It’s as innocent as Amanda shares with her own son, just the tips of fingers pressed. But she understands the impact of what Spock is sharing with this boy, and she knows that they are young, and have an entire lifetime and a universe in front of them, but the moment is weighty.

“Okay but no,” Jim says, pulling his hand away. “It needs to be like this.” He stands in front of the two stuffed animals with his arms crossed. “I now pronounce you husbands, now… kiss,” he says, then reaches down and mashes their face together.

Spock’s brows dip. “That does not look…comfortable.”

Jim shrugs. “Mommy says that I can’t kiss anyone until I’m a hundred.”

“That is illogical for a human,” Spock chides gently.

Jim shrugs, then throws the animals to the bed. “Whatever. So, we could just do that. Then I could come live with you on Vulcan and we could have a house and a dog…”

“There are no terran canines on Vulcan,” Spock says. “But there are sehlats. I had one,” he goes quiet for a moment. “He no longer lives, but there are cubs.”

“Then we could have some sehlats and kids.” Jim jumps and turns to Spock. “Wanna play Starship Captains?”

“I believe we require our morning meal,” Spock says.

Amanda decides it’s time, so she knocks on the wall and pushes the door open. “Morning boys. It’s time for breakfast.”

Jim throws the little Starship toy onto his bed with the abandoned, newly wedded husbands, and grins at Amanda. “Spock and I are going to get married!”

Amanda can’t help her grin. “Is that so?”

“Will that ensure Jim can live with me on Vulcan?” Spock questions.

Amanda bites her lip to keep her grin from overtaking her face. “Yes,” she says slowly, “that is one option.”

Spock looks at Jim, then back at Amanda, then he nods. “Then it is acceptable. We shall be married before we leave.”

“You have to be a little older than eleven, Spock,” Amanda says. “But it’s something to keep in mind once you finish at the Academy.”

Jim groans even as he reaches for Spock’s hand. “That’s so faaar.” Then his eyes light up. “You wanna go ice skating today, Spock?”

Spock, for his part, looks properly terrified, but also like he can’t say no to Jim. They brush past Amanda without another word, and with her heart lighter, she follows them down to the kitchen to start their day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems like I'm being hard on Sarek, but he's Sarek from TOS, so he's still that dad who disowned Spock for 18 years for choosing Starfleet over the VSA. That's why he's not really coming around.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one more chapter set during this particular trip to earth, then the timeline goes forward, and there will be about two more chapters of that before it ends. I plan to do a short, chaptered fic about them meeting again which I will add to this under a series tag.
> 
> I will answer comments asap. It's been a busy weekend, but I've read every single comment and they literally gave me life. <3 Thank you so, so much.

“…and…and then my mom’s going to get this big, inflatable starship jumping castle!” Jim bounces in his seat a little, wriggling which makes Amanda laugh softly. “And I want carrot cake, which Sam thinks is gross but he’s gross so I don’t even care.” Jim crosses his eyes and sticks his tongue out at the empty chair which Sam had previously occupied. Then, leaning on his elbow to give Spock a soft look, Jim asks, “What about your birthday?”

Spock blinks in surprise, and Amanda opens her mouth to gently try to explain the cultural difference between Vulcans and humans, but Spock simply says, “It is not in my nature to celebrate such an event.”

Jim looks mildly affronted, but then he just sighs. “Well…when is it?”

“He was born on the sixth of January,” Amanda supplies, certain Spock knows the earth dates, but not certain Spock would use them for Jim’s benefit.

Jim’s brow furrows. “But that was…that was…two days ago.”

“Affirmative,” Spock says. He scrapes the rest of his oatmeal out of his bowl, then collects his and Jim’s empty one and places them in the sink. “Would you care to accompany me for a walk? I will need to change, but I would not be adverse to observing the cliffside again.”

Jim jumps up and down. “Yeah! Let’s go!” He leaps over to grab Spock’s hand and together, the pair of them hurry up the stairs.

When Amanda looks over at Winona, the other woman has a look on her face. “Just to warn you,” she says, “I believe my son is up to something.”

~*~ 

That something happens later, when Spock is deep in mediation, and Amanda is on the sofa near the window reading messages on her PADD. She hears a noise, and sees Jim lingering in the doorway.

“Hey there,” she says. It’s getting easier and easier to remember how to address humans the longer they’re there.

Jim shuffles his feet. “Miss Amanda? Can I talk to you?”

She pats the sofa cushion next to her, and Jim hesitates before hopping up and curling his legs into his chest. He squeezes his knees and says, “Can we throw a party for Spock?”

Amanda blinks in surprise for a second, then reaches over and pets Jim’s hair. “Sweetheart, that is very thoughtful of you, but it’s not necessary.”

“I want to,” Jim says in a rush, then swallows back his enthusiasm and says, “Only if he won’t be mad about it. Mom says that Vulcans are different and some things that are real nice for humans aren’t nice at all for Vulcans. But Spock is half human, because you’re his mom, so I thought maybe he’d…half like it?”

Amanda bites back a laugh, endeared beyond reason by this little boy, and for a moment she indulges herself in a fantasy of her son older, and somehow made happy by this boy who has become the man he’s chosen as his beloved. “What if we compromise?”

“I’m good at that!” Jim chirps. “I compromise with Sam all the time because he’s stubborn and he always wants to be the boss. But I want to be the boss too!”

Amanda’s lip quirks. “That’s very pragmatic of you, Jim. And I think we can compromise. What if we plan a little celebration for Spock, hmm? On Vulcan, we don’t celebrate, but I always make him a little treat for after dinner, and I think he likes that. So maybe we can make him something together?”

“Okay,” Jim says, and he seems very excited by such a small idea, which Amanda loves so much. “Can I give him a present?”

Amanda considers this. “Vulcans don’t usually give or receive presents. They find it illogical, however Spock is also interested in understanding the customs of humans, so I think he might enjoy the practice just this once.” She hesitates a second, then says, “Can I tell you something, Jim?”

He nods, his face very serious. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She tries to word her thoughts carefully in a way Jim will understand, and maybe carry with him in years to come. “I think you and Spock will be friends for a very long time. And I think that’s going to be very good for him. I just want you to know that if you be patient with him, and understand that he’s never going to be human like you…”

“Miss Amanda,” Jim interrupts, looking wide-eyed and deadly serious, “I don’t want Spock to be like me. I want…” He fidgets, bites the inside of his thumb. “He’s special because he’s Spock and he likes me and makes me feel real good. I would be sad if he wanted to be different. So it’s okay if he doesn’t want presents, or a party.”

Amanda can’t stop herself from running her hand over his hair. “He’s very lucky to have a friend like you, Jim. And I think a little present will be just fine. It’ll give him something to take back to Vulcan with him.”

“He always wants to take me,” Jim says, and Amanda swallows back a surprised laugh as Jim lets out a sigh. “He says I’m his and I want to go, but…mommy says no.”

Amanda pats his head again. “Your mother is quite right, Jim.”

“Doesn’t it make him sad? I’m sad when he’s not here,” Jim says.

“I think,” Amanda says slowly, “that even if he’s sad, if you give him something to take back with him, he’ll think of you often and he won’t feel alone.”

Jim brightens, perks up, then leaps to his feet. “Okay! Thank you!” Then he runs off, leaving the room with an echoing silence, and with a strange feeling in Amanda’s stomach.

~*~ 

Amanda’s nervous about the surprise dinner and present. Jim insisted on a candle, so Amanda baked a Vulcan-friendly batch of cupcakes and Winona prepared a vegetable casserole she learned from her aunt who was a life-long vegan. Jim’s all but vibrating out of his seat with suppressed anticipation over the gift—a little wrapped thing that Amanda had found, lopsided and with way too much sticky tape. She’s worried about Spock rejecting it, about him offending Jim and in the end upsetting them both. But she has faith now. She has faith in her son, and in this boy whom her son has chosen to keep close to, in spite of the impossible distance.

Spock seems dubious about the whole dinner thing, and when Jim presents the cupcake and candle, he frowns. “I do not understand.”

Jim pushes the plate toward him. “Kay you just…close your eyes and wish real hard, then you blow out the candle. But don’t tell anyone what your wish is!” His voice gets high and squeaky the way it does when he’s excited. “Or it won’t come true.”

“I find no logic in such things,” Spock says primly.

Jim huffs and sighs, and nudges into Spock’s side. “That’s okay. You just gotta anyway. Sometimes human stuff is all illogical.”

Spock cocks his head to the side, and just when Amanda thinks he’s going to protest again, his eyes slip shut. She feels a pulse along their family bond, something akin to affection and longing. Then his eyes open, he puckers his lips, and lets out a sharp puff of air. The candle goes out, and she watches the small, tendril of smoke rise and dissipate.

“Present!” Jim cries, and throws his hands up in the air. He runs off to the other room, and returns a second later with the wrapped thing. “This is your birthday present.”

Spock takes the thing, ginger like rough handling would shatter it. “I…” is all he says.

“Your mom told me that Vulcans don’t get presents, and I was real sad at first, but then I thought maybe you weren’t sad because you’re Vulcan. But then she said if you had this, you could think of me when you’re on Vulcan and I’m here.”

Spock’s fingers dig into it slightly, and Amanda feels like maybe she should intervene. Spock isn’t emotionless, but she knows how it affects him when he cannot keep control. But she waits, because she also knows how important it is for him to navigate these situations on his own.

The moment passes, then Spock carefully picks at the tape, and eventually has the gift laid bare. It’s a battered, scuffed old Starfleet badge. 

Jim’s watching from a few paces away, and he bites his lip. “It was my dad’s. He gave it to me after his ship blew up, but he escaped and he said that he was thinking of me and Sammy and mom, so he wanted me to carry that so I could think of him when he was away and I missed him.”

“Jim,” Spock says, very patient, even if the adults in the room are a little…misty-eyed, to say the least. “It is illogical that I should take an item which you use to give yourself emotional comfort.”

He tries to hand it back, but Jim’s hand seizes Spock’s, and he closes Spock’s fingers around it. “No,” he says, insistent and firm. “It’s okay, because you can take it and think of me. I’m gonna be a Starship Captain too. I’m going to Starfleet Academy and then I’m going to go to space, and I’m going to wear a badge just like this. And maybe you could come with me!”

Amanda winces, because she knows Sarek’s opinion of Starfleet, knows most Vulcan opinions on Starfleet, and Spock’s likely career outcome will be to undergo kohlinir and work aboard a science vessel.

Spock, however, merely takes the badge and holds it carefully in his hand. “Perhaps,” is all he says.

And it’s such a simple word, if he were human. But Spock is not human. He’s a child, yes, but he’s also a Vulcan and is not one for placating or entertaining fantasy. A perhaps is a waving banner of possibility that he might choose something else that directly benefits what he wants, instead of the greater good of his people.

Spock has been through so much, and there’s a big piece of Amanda that just wants him to make a selfish choice, just because. Just because he can. She closes her eyes and breathes through her overwhelming emotions.

When she looks up again, Jim and Spock are gone, and Winona is looking at her carefully.

“That was sweet,” she says.

Amanda nods, not really capable of saying much more. Not at the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go!
> 
> The next chapter will time-jump, and will include Spock's application to Starfleet as well as the VSA. It will deal with Tarsus IV and will lead into the nexgt, probably shorter series, about them reuniting as adults.
> 
> As always, thank you so so much for all the amazing comments and kudos! I'm so glad everyone loved this little bit of kid fic indulence with me.

Amanda’s feeling a little nervous, not only because she can sense her son’s melancholy at the fact that they’re leaving for Vulcan the following day, but also because Spock agreed to accompany Jim to meet up with some school friends, and though Spock is great with Jim, his contact with other humans has been somewhat limited. Amanda feels enough secondary pain from her son’s treatment by the other Vulcan children, and she doesn’t want him to feel it from the humans. The last thing he needs is to be alienated from both sides of his heritage—but she knows that humans can be just as fearful and resentful of what is different.

Still, she knows her son will need to navigate these things on his own, and since the whole ice skating thing was shot down in favor of an indoor park which was kept at a more tolerable temperature for her Vulcan boy, she’s letting herself step back. She’s with Winona on the Parent Bench, away from a lot of the other parents supervising, but with a good view of the play area.

Most of the ground is foam, and there are obstacle courses, and puzzles to solve, a rock wall, and a trapeze set just above a pit filled with giant foam blocks. Jim has already said hello to several children around his age, and even Sam met up with some of the kids at his middle school, so it’s clear they visit this place a lot. Amanda momentarily worried that Jim would abandon his more stoic companion for his more enthusiastic friends, but Jim has yet to let go of Spock’s hand, in spite of her son’s reluctance to try anything on his own.

“They don’t do this on Vulcan, do they?” Winona asks.

Amanda sighs. “No. The children aren’t encouraged to play, really. They have activities—music, dance, things like that. But not like this.”

“Biology,” Winona offers.

Amanda nods, but she’s not entirely sure about that. She spent the entire duration of Spock’s gestation studying Vulcan history. From the pre-reform tribes to the Surakian Awakening. She has known her husband intimately—in the throes of Pon Farr where his logic is all-but gone in favor of his own passions, and even in the quiet moments where he is merely controlling it all. She has seen every inch of his mind, and she knows what lies beneath.

She knows that Vulcan children are born a certain way, they aren’t taught, and most of them cry very little and have far more control than a human ever would. But she’s also seen how quickly anyone can take to the way of Surak. She watched Michael go from a bright, happy, inquisitive child, to a desperate girl trying to suppress both her pain and happiness to please her foster father. She’s also seen the tail end of what happens when a Vulcan loses control in Sybok, and she’s not really sure, in the end, what end of the spectrum her son will fall on. Right now she’s conflicted because Spock will not lie to his father, and when Sarek learns that his son is considering Starfleet…

Amanda’s drawn from her thoughts when she hears Winona take in a sharp breath, and she looks over to see Spock stepping in front of Jim, one hand behind him to secure the younger boy, the other out in a threatening manner. There’s another boy in front of them, and she can’t make out what they’re saying, but before she can do anything, she sees Spock push the boy to the ground.

Her feet carry her faster than she realized she was capable of, and she’s pulling Spock close to her as the little boy sits on the ground and cries, though she’s fairly sure it’s all theatrics. All the same, she knows her son has far more strength than humans do, but she also knows her son can control it.

“What in the world is happening here?” Amanda demands.

Spock, for his part, looks slightly dazed. His eyes are wide, and his head turns frantically, his posture only relaxing when he sees Jim now standing next to his mother with watery eyes and a small pout on his mouth.

“Spock,” Amanda demands.

Spock puts his hand behind his back, taking a breath as he turns to face his mother. “That boy implied that he had claim over my t’hy’la.”

Amanda wants to slap her hand over her face and groan, but she can’t bring herself to do it. “How, exactly, did that happen?”

“This boy,” Spock says, as close to a sneer as she’s ever heard him speak, “suggested that we play a game based on a fictionalized representation of a family. He insisted that Jim would be his mate. And it is already plain that Jim’s mate is not a human boy.”

Amanda bites her lip, then says, “Spock, I want you to apologize to this boy immediately. It was pretend play, and no matter what insult you felt, you never resort to violence.”

Spock looks like he wants to argue, but eventually he concedes and turns to the boy who hasn’t gotten up, though he has stopped crying. “I offer an apology for my act of violence. I let my emotional control slip and it will not happen again.”

The boy stands up, and Amanda thinks that if she weren’t there, he’d probably try and hit Spock or some other form of retaliation. Instead he just looks over at Jim, then says, “Vulcan goblin!” He runs off, and Amanda wants to grab him by the arm and walk him to his mother and demand to know if they are responsible for teaching him xenophobic slurs.

She doesn’t though. Instead she takes Spock away from the crowd, to a secluded bench where they’re not likely to be overheard. He sits next to her, hands prim in his lap, and he’s not looking at her, though she can tell he’s listening.

“I understand you feel a certain bond with Jim,” she begins.

“Mother,” he interrupts, “he is my t’hy’la. It is not conscionable for him to engage in such play, even if there is no basis in reality. I am within my rights to respond to a challenge regarding my mate…”

“Spock,” she says, exasperated, “you and Jim are both children, and nowhere near a time where a challenge means anything. I understand that you reacted, but you _must_ control yourself.” She wants to beg him not to give them any reason to look at him like he’s alien, but she knows that’s both unfair and pointless. He’ll always be other, no matter what world he chooses, and making him more aware of it so young will only mean that he suffers for more of his life.

Spock bows his head. “Do you think Jim is upset with me?”

Amanda glances over to where Jim is sitting with his mother, looking worried. “I don’t think so. But he’s too young to understand t’hy’la or bonds. That won’t be the case forever, but you must understand that Jim is also human. He doesn’t feel bonds the same way you do. Humans are more fickle that way. They don’t necessarily feel compelled to be with someone forever.”

Spock looks at her, cocking his head to the side. “Mother…do you feel this way about father? Do you feel it necessary to pursue a bond with others?”

Her face goes hot. “Of course not, sweetheart. I’m very much loyal to your father. But it’s something I had to learn, not something that came naturally to me. You must be patient with him.”

“Jim’s other asked the same thing of me. Patience. Does it not seem that I am willing?” He sounds young then, and confused, and she just wants to hug him. She files that away with all the other moments she suppressed the urge to reach out and hold her son close to her chest.

“No, Spock, it doesn’t seem that way at all. It merely gives humans emotional security to state the obvious.”

“Illogical,” he says with a sigh.

She can’t help but laugh. “Very. And yet, we are an illogical species. I think you should go talk to Jim, though. The day can be salvaged, we have time.”

Spock nods. “I will apologize and do my best to engage in human play.” He walks off, and she waits until Jim agrees to go off with him again before she returns to Winona’s side.

“Well, could’ve been worse,” Winona offers.

Amanda can’t help but laugh. “Yes. I honestly dread what the separation will do to Spock when we go back. I know it doesn’t seem like much on the outside, but Jim has showed him how to find that balance between his Vulcan and human side more than he ever has before. I hate…I hate that we have to leave.”

She thinks maybe Winona wants to press the issue, or challenge her. Question why they _do_ have to leave if things are worse. But she doesn’t. Mostly, Amanda thinks, because Winona understands the cultural differences as much as any human on earth can. So instead of doing any of that, Winona just reaches over and touches the back of Amanda’s hand.

~*~ 

They have an early shuttle to the ship, so Amanda has to wake Spock long before the sun is up. She finds the pair of them in bed, curled up together—Jim in footie pajamas and Spock in his robes. He wakes without complaint, but there’s a drag to his steps, and she doesn’t stop him when he presses his lips to Jim’s temple, then brushes his fingers along his psi-points. Jim doesn’t wake, but he smiles in his sleep.

They say goodbye to Winona, and Spock is near silent on the drive to the launch. When they’re safely in orbit, ready to board the ship, she sees a glint of metal and realizes that Spock is holding the Starfleet badge in his fist.

When they’re settled in their quarters, Spock holds it on his open palm and asks quietly, “Will I see him again?”

Amanda wants to say that of course they will, that Jim isn’t lost forever, that they can go back soon, but deep down she knows that’s not going to be the case. She defied her husband’s wishes, and while she knows that Sarek won’t openly go against her, she also knows he’s clever. He’ll find a way to keep Spock busy, to thwart every other opportunity until Spock is ready to enter the VSA.

And it breaks her heart a little, but she can tell from Spock’s face that he understands now what this trip meant.

“You’ll see him again,” she tells him. “There will come a time, Spock, when you will be offered a choice. You will be in control of your life, and you will need to decide who you’re living it for.”

“I do not understand,” Spock says, stroking one finger down the side of the badge.

“You want to show loyalty to your father by living the life he wishes for you, and I understand that. I understand the need to prove yourself as a Vulcan. But you’re not all Vulcan. There will come a time you could join Starfleet, or…or do something else, that will take you away from the city, away from the planet. And your father will not like it, but ultimately, the choice is yours. It’s your life, Spock. I won’t ever tell you what to do, but I will tell you that just because happiness isn’t necessary, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

Spock’s mouth opens, then closes, and he says nothing. Eventually she sees him slip the badge into his pocket, and she has a feeling that no matter what happens, Spock will keep it close.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end. Hopefully I was kind with the Tarsus IV thing, and I know it ends kind of angsty, but I added a series tag if anyone wants to subscribe to that, because I have grown-up Spirk in this Universe planned.
> 
> It's set in TOS, so there's no Nero or any of that stuff, and the Grown Up Spirk will probably be a lot of side-fics set in episodes, I'm going to guess ending with Amok Time, or at least just after. I kind of played around with ages/timeline for the whole Tarsus IV thing, and when Spock finished his primary schooling (I'm not sure when he would have been accepted to Starfleet, but 17 sounded reasonable). Also in this Universe, Spock clearly knows about Tarsus IV instead of finding out in The Consicence of the King, but other than that, events should proceed as normal for TOS.
> 
> Anyway a huge huge thank you to every single person who commented and left kudos. You've made my entire fanfic experience the BEST EVER. I'll respond to comments soon, and I hope you like this last

Sometimes the six years feels like six minutes. Sometimes the six years feels like sixty. Things between Spock and Sarek have never been more strained, and it’s officially been a year since Spock’s heard from Jim. The last time Spock had commed Jim was to inform him that yet another planned trip to earth had been cancelled—as Amanda had predicted would happen the moment they set foot back on Vulcan. Jim had taken the news with as much grace as he could manage for being thirteen.

“It’s alright. My mom’s sending me to Tarsus IV for one of the agricultural programs since she’s got a year long assignment over on the Io colony. And don’t you have your exam for your VSA application anyway? So it’s not like, you know, you could really spare the time.”

Amanda, who was standing near the door, watched Spock reach into his pocket and touch what she knew was there. The battered, faded badge he never went without.

“Will you be such an illogical human as to wish me luck, Jim?”

There was a faint snort on the other end of the comm line, then Jim said, “Not like you need it. You’re literally the smartest Vulcan that ever existed. But good luck, Spock. Comm me and tell me all about it when it’s over.”

Now Amanda stands in front of Spock’s door with dread in her belly because she’s seen the news. It’s made waves in every single galaxy across the known universe. Genocide, starvation, torture. Four thousand people needlessly murdered on Tarsus IV, and the names of those who had been put on Kodos’ death list had already been released.

Amanda had seen Jim on there. For a moment, everything was still and silent, like she was in a dream. When she came to herself, she was on her knees, gripping the edge of her bed, and sobs were heaving out of her chest. She didn’t dare speak with her son like this, didn’t dare leave the room until she was composed. But the very thought of delivering that news to her son—though in truth, she knew it was likely he had already seen it.

She wonders how their last comm ended. Wonders if sweet words were exchanged, or promises of forever. Spock had been in iron control of his emotions since returning from earth that winter, but she wasn’t sure anyone would be strong enough to process this. She knows dozens of stories of Vulcans going mad after losing their t’hy’la, and she has no real comfort to offer her child now.

Her hand curls into a fist and she raises it to knock before touching the panel. It slides open, and she finds Spock at his desk, staring blankly down at his PADD. In his fist is the badge, and it’s the first time she’s seen it out in the open since Jim had given it to him.

“Spock,” she says quietly.

He doesn’t turn, doesn’t really acknowledge her apart from a slight stiffening of his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry.”

Spock looks at her. “He is not dead, mother. This list is wrong.”

Amanda blinks at him. “Spock, it’s perfectly normal to experience some level of denial after such a great loss, but…”

“No, mother. If Jim were dead, our bond would be broken. It is not, therefore he is not dead.”

Amanda frowns. “Spock, I know he’s…he’s t’hy’la, but a bond ceremony was never performed. The only thing you’re feeling is T’Pring and…”

Spock stands, towering over her now, looking so much his seventeen years, on his way to being fully grown, fully mature. He would be imposing if his eyes, still so human, were not soft as they gazed at her. He takes her hand and holds it tight, a touch she hasn’t felt since he was a small boy.

“There is a bond. It was formed when Jim was no more than an infant, the first time I touched him. It is…small, it is not fully formed, but it is there. It has comforted me over the years, and continues to do so now. I assure you, whatever horrors Jim experienced on that planet, he is not dead.”

Her head bows, and she feels the pulse of truth between their family bond, and she has no other choice but to trust him, to believe him. “So what has you melancholy?” she asks.

“It is not so mundane an emotion as melancholy, mother,” he says, and releases her hand. She feels the loss of his touch keenly, but doesn’t reach for him again. Spock turns and picks up his PADD, holding it close to his chest as his gaze returns to her. “I am…conflicted.”

Her eyebrows lift. “How so?”

Spock licks his lips, such a human gesture, and then says, “I have been offered a place at Starfleet Academy.”

Amanda feels that like a shock. Years ago, Spock told Jim it was no more than a consideration, one she did not think Spock would go through with. Especially not after his return to Vulcan, and the years he’s spent now trying to be the son Sarek had always wished for. Michael’s rejection from the VSA still stings, but Sarek comforted himself by knowing Spock would get in.

She had no idea Spock had even applied.

“My confirmation hearing for the VSA is tomorrow, and I…am conflicted about choice,” he says. He turns the PADD and shows her the offer from Starfleet. She sees the insignia right at the top, and it makes her feel lightheaded.

“What do you want?” she presses.

Spock’s jaw tenses just slightly. “I cannot approach this decision with want, mother. There is no logic in that. I must consider all options and choose the one that benefits the future of our people and…”

“Spock,” she says, ignoring his flicker of annoyance on his face at being interrupted, “our people are fine. Vulcan is a strong, brave, solid culture and one single mind choosing Starfleet over the Science Academy will not be detrimental to the future of your race.”

Spock glances down at his hand which is still holding the badge. “I…” He stops himself, and she sees the slightest green tinge to the tips of his ears. “Might I confess something shameful, mother?”

“Nothing you feel, nothing you confess to me in private, Spock, should ever make you feel shameful,” she assures him.

He opens his mouth, closes it. He breathes. Then finally he says, “I wish to be selfish. I wish to fulfil a selfish desire to seek out my t’hy’la, to ensure that one day, we will be together. I…at times I feel that even if it would affect my people, I would choose it anyway.”

“Do you remember what I told you, all those years ago?” she asked him, reaching out and touching the back of his hand. It was saying something about his emotional state that he let the contact prolong. “When we left earth for that last time, and you were conflicted then. I told you that there would come a time that you would be faced with this choice, and you must consider yourself as part of the decision making process.”

His head bows. “I remember.”

“Well, you’re now faced with this moment, Spock. What you choose for your future is in your hands.”

“Father,” Spock says, then stops himself and glances at the door as though Sarek might materialize there to remind his son just who he belongs to. “He would never forgive me.”

“Then your father is a fool,” she says, and squeezes his hand tight. “Your father is far more conflicted than you have ever been. In both his understanding of you and me, and of his understanding of himself. That is his own burden, Spock, not yours. I can’t promise he will ever understand should you choose to leave Vulcan, but I can promise you that I will always love you, and I will always be proud.”

Spock carefully withdraws his hand, and holds the badge in his palm, touching it with two fingers as though he could send Jim the ohz’esta through that alone. “I think I have always known what I must do.”

She wants to say she knew, too. From that moment in the shop, when Spock appeared holding a little baby in his arms and declaring that whatever it was between them would last as long as forever, she knew. But she doesn’t say it aloud. It’s not her place.

“Mother,” Spock says, and steps closer to her, “I was once told by Jim’s mother that humans require physical affection in order to survive. In that, I must assume that you have been given the adequate amount from both myself and my father.”

Amanda flushes, surprised by this. “I…of course, Spock.”

He nods, his lips thinned slightly. He then reaches out, hesitant, but eventually his hand finds her shoulder, and he draws her in. It’s almost a mockery of an embrace, like he’s seen it performed but not sure entirely how it’s meant to work. She almost laughs, but then she feels his lips press against her temple in a lingering kiss, and his hands around her tighten.

“I wish to convey my affection for you, and my concern over leaving you here on your own,” he says, very softly.

It’s been a long time since she’s wanted to cry over her child in this way, and it takes every ounce of her control to keep herself together. Still, she sniffs a little as she pulls back, and can’t help herself from reaching up to press a palm to Spock’s cheek. “Oh Spock, you never need to worry about me. I choose to be with your father because I care for him, and I know he cares for me.”

Spock bows his head. “I must prepare for my hearing tomorrow.”

She understands the dismissal, but selfishly, greedily, she lets herself linger in his arms another moment before pulling away. “Your father and I will both be waiting.”

There’s naked dread in his tone when he says softly, “Yes. I am aware.”

~*~ 

It goes exactly as Amanda predicted it would. Spock rejects the VSA, the elders are as openly furious as Vulcans ever get, and Sarek’s reaction is an obvious overreaction as he storms off before Spock can explain himself. Amanda lingers to congratulate her son, to inquire about his departure for earth, and tries to quell the feeling in her gut because she knows that it will be a long, long time before she sees him again.

He’s on his own as he walks out of the building, and there’s a moment of disappointment that flickers across his face when he realizes his father has already gone.

“He’ll come around,” she says, but she’s not sure if that’s truth, or a lie.

Spock nods, hands clasped behind his back. “I assume he will not wish to see me before I leave, therefore I took the liberty of sending my things to the transport ahead of time so there will be no need for me to return to the house.” He hesitates, then throwing propriety in the face of every Vulcan watching, he leans in and kisses her temple again. She will hoard the memories of these kisses for the future, for the nights when her empty nest threatens to overwhelm her, and missing him feels like missing a limb, or a sense. Her eyes open slowly, and he’s already backed away from her. “Please…take care, mother.”

“I will,” she says, and laughs quietly. “Of course I will. And you keep in touch with me, Spock. Weekly. I want to hear everything.”

“That would be illogical, as I will not have time to convey to you every moment of my time at the Academy. But I shall endeavor to keep you abreast of my activities.” He holds up the ta’al. “Live long and prosper.”

“Peace,” she says, very slowly, “and long life, sa’fu. And when you find Jim again…”

He nods, just once. “You shall be informed.” He collects himself, and then he walks off, and she stands there until she can no longer see him in the crowd.

She’s not sure what she’ll say to Sarek, or how she’ll be able to reconcile his volatile anger over Spock choosing to enlist in Starfleet. She’s not sure that her marriage will survive this, as much as she truly does love her husband. But she will try. She will try, because she’s done her job in ensuring that her son chose happiness over logic, and that somewhere in this universe, Jim Kirk is alive, and he’s healing, and he’ll be with Spock one day.

She carefully gathers her robes about her, adjusts her veil, then begins her long trek home.


End file.
